


A Gun to the Mouth

by mel0drama



Category: Dare Me (TV 2019), Dare Me - Megan Abbott
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Complicated Relationships, Confusion, F/F, False Pretenses, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Manipulation, Post-Canon, Study of Feelings, Thought Projection, Weakness, addy needs therapy, i haven't read the book
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:14:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24650065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mel0drama/pseuds/mel0drama
Summary: "Was that my mistake?" She couldn't keep the entirety of the mental conflict which she had concealed from showing, not any longer."No...No it wasn't. Maybe you still do like me, Addy."The girl exhaled shakily as Coach closed in on her further- there was a hair's width between them, and she couldn't stand it, yet she was frozen to the spot. And there was underlying truth in the woman's words as she continued, which, Addy realised, was a painful issue.God, Coach was good at this.
Relationships: Colette French/Addy Hanlon
Kudos: 16





	A Gun to the Mouth

**Author's Note:**

> Both Addybeth & Colette/Addy are mentioned and a lil detailed since it turned into more of a study of Addy's feelings than I first intended lmao but I only tagged Colette/Addy since Beth & Addy don't actually interact  
> —  
> This fic isn't reallyyy graphic or anything so I didn't tag it as dead dove but it's pretty heavy on the angst (especially near the end) so yk heed the tags if it could be uncomfortable for you  
> —  
> Also there's a brief point of view switch but the vast majority is from Addy's

Addy exhaled, lightly relieved, as she watched Emily and Tania safely catch and lower Beth onto the mat. She looked initially over at the two girls, who didn't take a second look at Beth, only searching enthusiastically for Coach's approval, and then at Beth- the red-haired girl flashed a smile to no one in particular, that only Addy could tell was forced. A genuine smile never reached her lips these days. 

And then Beth met eyes with Addy. It was only for a second, but Addy's pulse spiked- however, Beth's brief smile faded at the contact, and she turned away, walking in the opposite direction to stand alone with her arms crossed. 

_I should've known_ ,  Addy thought, feeling the usual ache which occurred when Beth shut her off. It had happened a whole lot since the week she had learnt the truth about Sarge Will's death by inference- the truth which only she knew for sure- she saw Beth, Beth saw her. They didn't speak. And it was a lot to bare, seeing Coach at school every day, especially at practice, acting as if everything was the same as it always has been. Acting as if  _she_ was the same. 

Addy had somehow admitted it to herself, though she had struggled to. It being that she'd been wrong about Coach the entire time, and it haunted her, thinking about how little it had taken for Coach to persuade her into covering up the deed, showering her with lies about its unfolding. Even worse, how her heart still clung onto a flicker of hope that Coach wasn't as bad a person as her brain was signalling to her. 

She hadn't gotten around to telling Beth anything.  Every hour of every day she had pined for the opportunity to talk to her best friend, and every hour of every day the other girl had stayed firmly closed off.

She missed her. And since she had stopped talking to Coach completely, except when necessary for a routine, she felt alone, even with the time she spent with the others on the squad. They weren't Beth. They weren't the person she'd been the closest to her whole life until she'd fucked it up. 

Addy pursed her lips tautly as she heard Coach clapping eagerly for the squad's perfomance, and then her brisk voice saying, "You all did great today. I know practice today was a little shorter than usual, but...You're all free to go." 

A buzzing chatter amongst the squad started up as they prepared to file out- RiRi had joined Brianna and Cori, and the three of them were clustered together. What Addy noticed the most was Beth, who was still solo, her eyes not looking in any specific direction. Addy's gaze lingered in the corner where she was situated, but she tore it away as the other girls headed over to her on the way to the door. 

She rolled her eyes as Tacy and the other JVs were the first to pass by her, Tacy's annoyingly high-pitched voice ringing in her ears. 

"I'll be top girl next time, I just  _ know  _ it."

That was another thing. Coach was choosing Beth to be on top a lot more as of late, Addy had realised- and she had a sinking suspicion that Coach knew exactly how the tension between themselves tied into the tension between her and Beth, and this was her subtle way of telling Beth to turn away from any knowledge she may have. Or maybe she was just looking too deep into it. The _less_ cynical  side of her yearned for it to be the latter; Beth would never give into any such manipulation, and she sure as hell wouldn't keep something so impactful- so _ruining_ \- to herself. 

And that same side didn't want Coach to go to jail for first-degree murder.

"Shut up, fetus, Coach probably finally realised you're shit," Addy heard RiRi's matter-of-fact voice before she could say anything herself. She snickered, and RiRi clapped her shoulder as she passed with Brianna and Cori. "Hey, Hanlon, come with us."

"Sure thing," Addy responded cheerily.

"Not you, Hanlon."

Addy stopped to register Coach's voice, and when the other three slowed as she did, she swallowed quietly. Instead of going over, though, like she would've done immediately a week ago- probably would've even sought Coach out- she played it off with a shake of her head and continued walking.

Before she could leave, however, she heard Coach's voice again; more snappy.

"I mean it."  _I'm still in an authoritative position, in spite of every single thing,_ Addy gathered from it, and she cursed inwardly, hastily saying to the others, "I'll meet you in a minute."

"'Aight, don't be ages, if you can help it," RiRi said, though Addy caught her eyes roll slightly. If only she knew that their relationship was nothing like before, that Addy was avoiding Coach near-fully out of fear of succumbing to her bittersweet, strong influence.

"What do you want?"

Addy barely took note of Coach's flinch at the way she answered, because that was when the last person left the room. 

_ Beth.  _

She glanced over one final time, only being able to assume Beth heard her curt greeting to Coach, because this time, their eyes didn't meet.

_ It's not what you think, _ Addy wanted to scream her lungs out to Beth. 

"First of all, I'd rather you speak to me, well...Normally, but can we have a word in my office?"

Addy's eyes felt heavy with mixed feelings she was actively compressing, just by them being focused on Coach, there, in front of her. "Normally," she repeated, "Normally. Isn't that a funny thing. If it's not about cheer, I don't care."

Now that the two were alone, Coach spoke in a softer tone, whilst still managing to sound sure of herself. It was the same tone she used to always use, her kind one that Addy had grown to love, admire. How she managed to be so controlled, yet peaceful and friendly. 

"Addy."

"I have no obligation to listen to you, unless it's about cheer. Or did you forget that when you knew I'd listen to you no matter what you'd ask of me...?"

"I know, I get it, this is weird for you. Can we talk about this in my office? Please? It's weird for me too, Addy..." Colette's voice trailed to an undertone, and she raised her voice to a steady note again, finishing, "I was just scared when you came that night. I wasn't ready to be honest with you, but I swear, I would've if you'd given me a chance."

"That's the thing. You  _don't_ get it. You think you do, but you...You  _don't_ ," Addy's voice was emotionally strained out of distrust, and yet absent of anger. "I  trusted you. I really did. And I saw through it...Far too late, Coach."

Even though she wasn't sure she had seen through _it_ at all. If the way Coach had cared for her was a veil over the coercion...Addy didn't think she could trust anyone again.

"I did everything for you, because I truly believed you were a good person. The person I needed to guide me, the role model I could look up to. I hadn't felt as in control of my life as I had when we crossed paths for a long time." Her voice contained a slight tremor. 

She stopped for a second, hesitant to mention next how her prolonged relationship with Beth had overlapped theirs. There was a lot to trace back to, even before Coach, and she began to remember all the times Beth had driven them around town, semi-drunk (but neither of them had ever given a fuck); shoplifting liquor and abundances of snacks that barely ever got eaten and usually ended up on the road; the countless times they had practiced together, just the two of them; and the other beautiful, one-time experiences. Like the time they had slept together under bushes after discovering a field behind an abandoned shop & flat building late at night and had impulsively decided to stay there- to which Addy's mum wasn't very pleased, to say the least, to find out about in the morning- and they had gazed at the stars and each other for as long as Addy could backtrack to, before eventually they must have both fallen asleep. 

Addy continued once her mind finished its wandering, her voice filled with a different form of emotion that was only present when she was talking with, or about, Beth;

"I lost my best friend. I didn't  _realise_ I was losing her- fuck, I didn't even realise I'd lost her- because I was so up in the clouds with you. I thought it'd be okay if I just spent time with you both, and kept it balanced, but that didn't happen. I was gravitating towards you more and more, because you led me to believe you were the better person. You kept me grounded, and that was what I needed, and probably still do. But not from someone like you. Was it what you wanted..."

Addy's gaze flickered down to a little above the floor, feeling by design as if she couldn't bare Coach's chillingly collected gaze any longer, and added rhetorically,

"...to drive me away from Beth, make me choose you over her, dedicate my every action to you so you could have someone to throw all of your problems onto, when I never wanted to have to make that choice?"

All Addy had wanted was an escape of sorts, someone to balance out her over-attachment to Beth, but those scales had wound up tipping too far onto Coach's side. 

In fact, the more she reflected on it, the more she pondered if the sheer intensity of her and Beth's friendship was as intense as it was for a reason beyond what she understood right now.

"But as soon as  _I_ need something, even just once..." Addy breathed out, finding herself well and truly unable to look Coach in the eye when she attempted to look up again. Her newfound ability to be angry to some degree with Coach was already failing her- she thought it might've lasted a little longer. She could only hope that the woman wouldn't have as much of an effect on her as she used to. "You turn your back like I was never there. Like I'd never helped you with anything." 

"My office," Coach demanded- or rather, the words sounded like a demand, crisp, sharp, but her tone told Addy otherwise. She was searching with apparent desperation for an opportunity to talk it all out with the younger girl. The woman had waited it out long enough, out of a selfish type of worry that had rendered her unable to look straight at Addy for more than a second. And that was exactly what Addy had, too, done to Beth over the week, except the worry wasn't hidden, or selfish- it was fear, the fear of becoming completely out of touch with the single person she couldn't live without, radiating off of her in deep-set waves, that she knew only Beth would be able to pick up on.

And the other girl had. She was just avoiding Addy to keep up their ongoing game- to see how long Addy could go before voicing her pained thoughts that she had been led almost willingly down a path that ended with her believing that Beth was as bad as Coach painted her to be. Maybe she wasn't the best person. 

But nobody is perfect, Addy thought, knowing now  that Beth was still better for her than Coach, even if 'better' wasn't 'paradisiacal'. Knowing _now_ that she wasn't a bad person, and she never had been. She was complex, and flawed, but not flat-out bad.

_But what if Coach is like that too...? And I just don't know her like I know Beth?_

Addy pushed away the invasive notion as much as she possibly could. It would only trip her conscience even more.

"And if it's any consolation...I do need to talk to you about States."

"Okay. Your office." Addy replied shortly, turning around to leave without sparing her Coach a second look. With the comfort of not having any degree of eye contact with her, Addy blinked swiftly and deliberately, forcing away the microscopic tears that formed at the corners of her eyes from the reality of the woman's actions. They were far beyond 'a little off-kilter', how she had described them once speaking about it with Addy when they were alone, prior to her uncovering the full truth, and yet the girl still couldn't be angry. 

The only thing she could do was pretend she was.

* * *

The blonde exhaled softly again, following. She caught up to Addy. "I have the keys...Addy." She glanced over at the girl- her eyes were locked so firmly forwards that she thought they'd never move a millimetre again- then she averted her gaze with a tiny shake of her head.

"I know. I don't have the IQ of a ten-year-old." Came Addy's short, bitter response, and she fell behind Colette without another word.

_There's no getting through to her, not just yet,_ she thought,  _But I'll have to make it quick. If I slip up..._ She didn't want to think about Addy talking. Much less the consequences of it if she had enough proof- what would happen to the squad, States...or herself. 

Colette turned the key into the door of her office, and pushed it open, heading inside. She glanced back a little hesitantly upon noticing Addy was lingering just outside of the room, but breathed a silent sigh of relief when she trudged inside and near-slammed the door behind her.

_Not how I would have done it, but...It's something,_ the woman thought, taking a seat at the far end of the small wooden table that separated the pair of sturdier, temporary chairs to her own, softer and more permanently-suited office chair.

* * *

Addy reluctantly seated herself, too, in one of the pair of other chairs. As she set her gaze, careful to exhibit no warmth, onto Coach, she remembered with a heavy touch of pain her old ritual when she would simply come into the office to chat- she'd move the other chair to the side, jokingly complain about the table seeming imposing and too formal for her tastes. Coach would laugh, and say something like,

_ "Most of my meetings in here are formal, Hanlon, believe it or not." _

Now, none of that happened- it was a formality, this time, in her eyes. Or at least, not as informal as other times she had entered.

"Can you get it over with?  Please? " Addy spoke grittily, attempting to maintain a poker face of sorts. 

* * *

"Okay. It's just about States," Colette started; she picked up on Addy's gaze icing over as she took a deep breath. 

_Play your cards right, play your cards right..._ Colette told herself, over and over like a record on repeat. She had to get the talking out of the way first, preceding anything else she could use. Talking was the laborious part of the process, but Addy wasn't a person she could skip past it with. She'd learnt that pretty soon in her getting to know the girl. "Obviously...things aren't right between me and you at the moment. And I-"  _I get it._ She stopped, scolding her near-slip of the tongue as she recalled Addy's outburst to those same words earlier. "I'm just asking if you could put our...strained relationship to the back of your mind. I wasn't lying to you, that time in the changing rooms. It  was  hard for me, and it still is hard for me now, if not harder. Because if you'd just listen to me for a second...Nothing else was a millimetre away from the truth, Addy. I just couldn't bring myself to tell you first off, because I didn't want to put any more pressure on you. You're so young, talented, and you have so much potential," her voice trailed to a whisper, though only briefly, "And I didn't want to be the cause of its downfall. I  _don't_ , present tense."

"Mhm, 'about states'," Addy repeated, "Sounds like it's about me, not the squad."

"Okay- fine. I digress. You have faith that I'll get you into States, and so does everyone else."

"Only as a coach," came the girl's response, before Colette could continue. "What's your point?"

"Right." She paused for a second, racking her brains for the right words- or rather, the perfect words. It would take that much to get through to Addy by now. "So, you can't tell anyone about what happened, otherwise, you'll be pretty stuck. But...if you really want to, go ahead. The most I can do is ask you not to, I suppose." She met Addy's gaze completely, now. The girl was visibly tense, for the first time since they had been in the school's gym. That was a start...But she'd learnt she needed sympathy above all else when it came to Addy.

"I wasn't planning on it. I just- I  _was_ planning, though, on staying the fuck away from you outside of practise hours, and act like everything is normal in them. So...Can I leave now?"

"Sure. If you want." Colette stood up, however, stepping away from the desk and closer to Addy. "Keep in mind what I said before, though. That is, if you were listening."

* * *

Addy felt herself go cold as Coach continued her slow stride, nearer and nearer. It was either strangely threatening in spite of her small tone of voice, or it was normal, and Addy's head was fucking her up. The girl wasn't sure which it was, and the uncertainty made her itch. 

She couldn't just leave. She knew it would be better for herself if she did, if she left her personal relations with the woman behind. But she couldn't bring herself to. She swallowed for something like the 5th time since Coach's first words had left her mouth, and lifted herself from the chair, her heart sinking far below her chest as she took note of the suffocating lack of distance that was now between her and Coach. It might have been 10 inches at best. 

"I listened."

Addy's tone of voice had softened- she could only keep up the curt and unbothered act for a short while if she truthfully wasn't either of the two. It was both a blessing and a curse, a curse in this particular moment in which she needed to feign anger more than she had in some while. She'd lost count of the times her mum had joked that was the biggest difference between herself and Beth.

"...It was easy enough for you to get me involved, though, wasn't it?" She continued, gentler at first. Then she became more agitated when Coach's expression remained too _mild_ , unreadable. "What part exactly was hard for you? What even is your idea of hard, Coach?" She blurted out quickly, although her voice became small again just as fast.

"Like I said before, I trusted you. I really liked you, as a person, not just a mentor...Was that my mistake?" She couldn't keep the entirety of the mental conflict which she had concealed from showing, not any longer.

"No...No it wasn't. Maybe you still do like me, Addy." 

The girl exhaled shakily as Coach closed in on her further- there was a hair's width between them, and she couldn't stand it, yet she was frozen to the spot. And there was underlying truth in the woman's words as she continued, which, Addy realised, was a painful issue.

God, Coach was good at this. 

"I'm not saying you do a hundred percent.And it's likely you don't trust me. But it's hard to let go of something like what me and you had, in just that short period of time. It's clear as day how much you're struggling to accept the change, Addy- but you don't  have  to. It might end up only hurting yourself more if you cut yourself off from me, and that's the last thing I want. I still like you, and I can promise that I only ever acted out of what I, sometimes mis, judged was the best for you."

"Coach, I- I don't know, okay?"

Conscious of Coach's hazel gaze becoming softer now, the blur between the facade that it was and the truth it looked to be becoming fuzzier, Addy carried on, her breathing ragged-

"I'm not angry with you, I can't be, somehow, but I need time, and I feel like I should be, but I'm really not, but that doesn't change what you did, and I feel so _suffocated,_ I already did, before I knew it wasn't- wasn't- a suicide, and whatever it is you're trying to get through to me, how am I supposed to know it isn't a lie, y'know, like other things, Coach..."  


Addy was almost certain she didn't want to let anything else out- what she had already said hadn't done a fraction well for her overflow of emotions. If anything, it made her feel worse, because when she composed herself enough to take in Coach's expression, it appeared sympathetic. Whether it was false or real was for the battle raging inside of her mind.

_ A gun to the_ _mouth._ _That's not just a change. That's too big to be called just a change. Right. Right...?_

Addy was too tense, and her thoughts were utterly fucked, but she couldn't release the constriction. 

"I can't, Coach. I can't explain it, I just. Can't. I need the distance," Addy choked out, scrunching up her eyes. They were brimming with tears, and she hoped Coach wouldn't notice, but she apparently did- Addy felt a jolt pass through her as the blonde gently put her hands on her shoulders, the same electric feel she had experienced from similar times Coach's hands on her hips and thighs had carefully guided her movements when they had practised one-on-one, except this time it was negatively charged.

" _Listen to yourself_ ," Coach said, a follow-up to her gesture. "I know you know what you want. Sometimes, emotions block those wants out."

"Listen to _yourself_ ," Addy spoke genuinely curtly this time- probably because she didn't mean to say the words out loud until she actually did, but she felt a tiny bit better with it being instead of gulping or doing nothing at all, so she added before her mind could change its course, "You always used to say these things to me. These...weird analogies and muses, without explanation. But they're not the same anymore, now that I know...what I know," she finished, the new burst of strength in her words still not enough to enunciate exactly what it was she knew. 

Coach's expression didn't falter; it wasn't annoyed, but it wasn't quite soft. Addy certainly felt the wind under her cold gaze. It held familiarity, authority.

"Let's say, Addy...Think about how you want to get to States. That desperation, that hunger for the title that gets to you when you perform."

Addy nodded, slowly and subtly. 

She hated where this was going.

"But then you think about Beth. You think about how her passion is there, but not quite as strong as yours is."

"Don't. Bring Beth into it..." Addy cut in tersely, and the immediate response she received was Coach's thumbs pressing ever-so-gently into her shoulder blades, something that should be comforting, but wasn't. 

She hated even more how the touch reminded her of the many times she had massaged Beth's shoulder when she'd often pull it practising a harsher routine. 

"Let me finish, then you can bring up any questions, Hanlon."

She didn't have to mention that it was technically also about cheer; an unspoken knowledge that Addy didn't have the current will to leave of her own accord had already passed between the pair, a silent, deadly ripple.

"That's one way your emotions have gotten in your way before. I've _seen_ it. I'm not blind. You've been unable to decide whether you'd rather direct your focus to what you want, cheer...Or your emotional block, knowing that Beth wants you more than cheer, and you _feel_ like you need to stick with her like she's sticking with you over everything else."

More than anything, she hated the truth in Coach's words. Just like the underlying truth in what she had been saying before, except it was full truth, this time.

"You don't know Beth." Addy replied, more defensively than she would've thought. Her eyes were rimmed with the red of a teary aftermath she pretended wasn't there. "Even if what you're saying had any basis to it, don't talk like you know anything about her."

But it did have basis, she knew that. Coach knew a lot _about_ Beth, but only from observing her from afar, as she did with the rest of the squad. Cold, uncaring. 

She'd never cared about them.

But she didn't know Beth from the inside, not like Addy did. Didn't know that she wasn't a heartless bitch, and that she had her own wounds, she'd just been brought up in a way that she'd told herself her whole life it'd be infinitely better to hide them. Didn't know that those wounds reopened sometimes, and she used to turn to Addy to cleanse them. Trusted her to.

Addy thought sometimes that maybe Beth saw her getting close to Coach as her betraying that trust, instead of the jealousy it was on the surface. This was the kind of stuff Coach didn't know- Addy mostly regretted telling her even the shallow details of how they worked, which was how she had gotten ahold of the basic dynamic, but it made her insides turn to ice how Coach talked about their complexity as if she could read her mind. Really, what she was saying was how Addy felt, sort of. Like Beth had been tied to her with a rope of thorns ever since they'd met, and she couldn't always squirm away in time to stop them from piercing her skin.

But with every clump of thorns came a rose, beautiful and sweet. What kept Addy from ripping through the thorns completely, for good, from gritting her teeth through the burst of sharp pain to eventually have all of her previous, tiny wounds healed?

The rose would wilt if she stopped tending to it.

"You're just saying that, Addy." It felt like an age to the younger girl until Coach spoke again- she had gotten lost in her thoughts, and she wasn't even sure how long for. 

An icy feeling continued to seep through Addy's bones, threatening to spill. She waited.

"To distract yourself from wanting me."

Then she grew hot. A chill still remained, but that was merely metaphorical. Faced with words she wouldn't have expected, in spite of everything...The room suddenly felt stuffy, the closed windows invading Addy's conscience. She licked her lips, trying not to let it reflect onto her expression too much, but it wound up being present anyway when she blurted,

"I don't- is that why you just said all of that- no- I don't-"

"Take a few seconds. A minute, if you like. Calm down and let me speak. You're too nervous right now." Coach interrupted, though it was gentle. Maybe too gentle, Addy couldn't figure that out, her thoughts were scrambled again, her rational side disappearing into thin air with every passing second. Coach's gaze remained lingering on Addy's, and Addy nodded, totally despite herself, a flustered gesture.

"Yeah- yeah, okay. Fine," she spluttered out.

"Your emotional block is obvious..." Coach started, and Addy couldn't prevent a wince escaping her as her hands moved up so that they were resting just above the straps of Addy's sports bra, tracing her collarbone. 

"Addy. I can see through you more than you let on to yourself. Don't let what you're _compelled to feel_ you should want hurt you. Because it will hurt you. Like I already told you. There are false wants, or what I like to call feelings, and there are wants. Desires."

"You and Will, right?" Addy feigned calm, when really, she could just about stop herself from shaking. She even managed to relish Coach's change in expression a little at the mention of the passed man, and didn't give her a chance to interrupt. "I remember now. This is like something you've told me before...Something like your love for Matt was forced, that your desire for Will was unadulterated, but what you felt towards Matt was mixed with how others saw you as a model husband and wife."

She inclined her head to the right, conscious of how similar it was to the posture Beth adopted when she was acting assertively. Coach's eyebrows raised in a seemingly annoyed surprise, and Addy wondered fleetingly if she was finally getting through. Could finally loosen the weakness which trapped her, accommodating Coach's constant air of dominance, the one which stuck even when she was acting compassionate.

The woman's mouth opened to say something, but it closed again, and she pursed her lips shortly as she acknowledged Addy's words. Although, she was still planning, her mind working at its matured efficiency, unbeknownst to the girl.

She couldn't trust Addy with an inch of what they shared, even with the girl's answer from much earlier. They weren't of any reassurance to her- a promise void of purpose. 

"I remember that. But...you're doing it again. Distracting myself from wanting me." Coach responded- it took a little while, but her words were direct. Addy hadn't broken their eye contact for a good while; having realised that she would be unable to face falling back into Coach's influence, and the only way to avoid that was to force an act of confidence onto herself, if not be _actually_ confident. 

She swallowed again, this time not out of pure fear, more to steel herself. Coach still had ahold of her, granted, by a thread- yet that thread might as well have been a million strings to Addy. So when she spoke, it matched the woman's certain tone.

"I don't want you, Coach. Seriously. There was a time when I might have thought I did, but I don't."

She wasn't sure whether she was trying to get the clarity through to Coach or herself more.

"And..." _You don't want me. It's just another tactic, to reel me back in, to keep what I know wedged so deeply in my guilty conscience I'll never say it aloud._ Addy knew that was what she wanted to say- but she trailed off, unable to express it. She hated herself for her lack of boldness. If only she was Beth right now, she thought with resentment. But she wasn't.

"And?" Coach said, after Addy went quiet. Addy figured with a thick antagonism that she couldn't find a response.

"Promise me one thing, then I won't ever speak to you again, if that's what you want." The blonde's tone turned to a slight plead, and Addy let her eyebrows raise, disbelieving.

"Bullshit me the best you can..." She said in a soft voice, one that was neither strong nor weak. 

"I'm not bullshitting you, Addy. I never was. But since you don't seem to believe that...Don't tell anyone. I know that you told me you wouldn't, before, but I need to be sure." Her tone of voice this time sounded a little different than before. Definitely a lot more pleading. Her hands made their way to Addy's jaw, then. This time, Addy hardly flinched, a fair surprise to herself; it still didn't feel right, though. It never would.

No one else's touch was comparable to Beth's. The touch that Addy desperately craved. But she had all the time in the world to worry about how much it would take for her to fix the damage she had done.

"Consider it guaranteed," came Addy's simple answer. "No less guaranteed than when I said it before, in fact." A low hum passed her lips as she lifted her hands, placing them on Coach's for a moment as she removed both pairs from her jaw in an oddly delicate movement. "I promise, Coach."

If Addy were to tell the truth, she didn't know...a whole lot, anymore. That was what came from intertwining herself with two profoundly different people who shared an intimidating resolve of platinum, she supposed. There was a clear cut line between the two, and she had now ascertained which side of it she ultimately wanted to end up on, but...she didn't know just how long it might take her to achieve that. Barriers of complexity veiled every opportunity she'd had to go either way, and the majority of things had turned densely misted to her dark eyes. 

"I'll...see you tomorrow," Addy said, the thinnest of smiles managing to creep onto her expression. She didn't want to smile. Not at all.

That was the reason why, once she had left the office after Coach had returned the goodbye in a primarily monotonous manner which mirrored hers, and after she had ensured to grab her things from the girls' changing rooms, she broke into a shaky run, breathing deeply, in, and out, far, far away from the school grounds. The empty recruiters' table was burned into her brain as a picture painted by a horror artist, and even though she didn't pass by it on the way out, she was reminded of it being there. 

" _FUCK_." The word didn't come out as a shout, not how it sounded in her brain. But it was still so loud, too loud, ringing through the empty afternoon air of the deserted street corner close to her house which she had stopped at. She sank against a tall wall plastered with age-old graffiti, feeling unnaturally dependent on its sturdy brickwork. "I can't fucking...do this anymore. Fuck it. Fuck her." She spat out the words to no one, no one was there to hear her. They weren't even particularly angry, or spiteful. Just abysmal thoughts of thousands of explosive emotions that were finally spilling, ones that pounded incessantly throughout her brain, never letting up, not for a second, not for half of one. 

Something occurred to her, right then. A night she wouldn't forget, nor the morning after it. A seedy party with a devastating happening over one too many grams of some drug. It occurred to her that she hadn't ever really considered asking Beth twice about it. 

Was this how she'd felt, then? Was this how she'd felt for four months, when Addy had shifted away from her, to a point where eventually the two had reached a further distance than they had in the wake of any transient arguments?

It was a fragment of this occurrence, although Addy wasn't sure which one, that prompted her to pull out her phone from the front pocket of her cheer jacket, paying minimal attention to her terribly quivering hands.

_She hadn't got around to telling Beth anything. She missed her_.

_Beth <3_

She sought out the girl's name in her contacts- she would've rather told her in person, but of course, she wasn't there. Addy braced herself as she typed out a message, fast with an eagerness that wasn't fuelled by anything positive, considering with every letter how likely it was that Beth would ghost her anyway, even with her sparse optimism that what she was trying to get across was curiosity invoking enough for that not to happen. 

Her brown eyes lingered for a little too long over the heart which remained next to Beth's name- they must have had matching contacts for at least a year, but Addy somehow hadn't found the guts, much less the desire, to rid of hers just yet, against the odds that her name on Beth's phone was no longer anything more than just _Addy_.

She clicked send, her stomach twisting dully as she did so, it only easing the tiniest amount when she weakly put her phone back into her pocket. 

_"I need to talk to you, a lot more than you probably think, Beth. Please"_

_"If just you and me talk, tomorrow, or even whenever you're ready to"_

_"I'll tell you everything."_


End file.
